


unlikely match

by juicymats



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Spoilers, ish?, oumasai is more implied than anything but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juicymats/pseuds/juicymats
Summary: its the little things that make this all worthwhile. (pregame oumasai drabbles)





	1. dance

**Author's Note:**

> edit: this fic was first published quite a long time ago so please excuse the shoddy writing esp at the beginning. thankyou!
> 
> ahh.  
> im emo
> 
> so i actually wanted to get a big pregame fic out but well im taking forever and its also killing me so i ended up doing small drabbles or snippets of bonkichis and kageharas relationship!
> 
> a lot of this doesnt center around the whole aspect of dr and just sai and oumas relationship ! if thats bothering..
> 
> please enjoy!

Gentle music fills the room.

Quick steps follow the beat, dragging across the floor of the empty room. Each time their feet make contact with the ground results in an echo of their dance.

Saihara leads, pulling Ouma along. He dances erratically, following the beat one minute and then completely throwing it off after another minute.

He pulls Ouma until he loses his footing, and trips backwards. Luckily, Ouma is quick to catch his partner before he hits the ground. The position places Saihara’s face way too close to his.

“Are you always this clumsy?” Ouma asks, eyeing the other skeptically.

“Y..You caught me…” Saihara replies. It’s like he didn’t even register the other’s jab. The usual sweat pools across his forehead, but there is a noticeably red tint that spreads across his cheeks.

Ouma grabs the other’s hands, intending on leading again. He pulls Saihara up, and resumes stepping to the beat, properly. Perfectly, he doesn’t misstep, or lose his footing. In his intense focus, though, he doesn’t notice his partner failing to keep up after a while.

Saihara clumsily tries to follow, but he steps on the other’s foot, and a moment later--they’re both on the ground.

Rubbing the back of his head, Ouma turns to him. “I was going so slow..you couldn’t keep up?” He wonders.

Saihara fiddles with the piece of hair that runs down the middle of his face. “You move fast.” He mumbles.

Ouma lets out a dramatic sigh. “I move fast? You move like you’re hearing your own beat in that head of yours..” He retorts, recalling his stumbling with Saihara’s unpredictable movements earlier.

Saihara gets up again, holding his hand out to the other. Ouma takes it, and the other pulls him back up again.

The taller of the two throws his arms over Ouma’s shoulders, and Ouma places his hands on the other’s waist. This time, they move in sync, slowly and carefully. They stare into each other’s eyes, this time, only focused on each other rather than the beat.

They continue like this for a while, calm and quiet. The music is soothing, and the moment is gentle.

Ouma’s usual hardened expression has relaxed, and he seems truly content.

Saihara is relieved. He liked seeing happy expressions on the other’s face.

He didn’t like it when Ouma was upset. He didn’t want him to be.

After a while, he breaks the silence. “T-This is romantic.” It just comes out. He blushes a bright red, and moves his eyes down to the floor.

Ouma scoffs.

He takes his hands off the other’s waist, and wraps Saihara in a hug. Immediately after Ouma initiates it, the other wraps his arms around him quickly, clinging tightly.

Ouma runs his hands through Saihara’s hair. It’s greasy, and disgusting. He thinks he can feel some of the skin peeling off up there. But he keeps doing it anyways. A content sigh comes out of the other’s mouth.

Like that, they stay for a while.

Then, suddenly Saihara pulls away, grabbing Ouma’s hands. He giggles, and drags the other with him, hopping and skipping across the floor. The sudden flip being switched in Saihara’s mind is something Ouma got used to. He had no way of knowing how the other worked, but the smaller boy had guessed that Saihara’s thoughts ran a hundred miles a minute. So fast, that it was hard to contain it all.

But he treasured the rare moment the other didn’t seem to be consumed by thoughts of Danganronpa…

And instead, with thoughts of him.

The thought flusters him slightly, but he shakes his head, and lets his excited companion drag him around the room.

To no one’s surprise, they fall again. This time, Ouma ends up landing on top of the other. Saihara is still laughing, and wraps his arms around Ouma pulling him way to close to his face.

Ouma doesn’t even think the other realizes what he just did. Sighing, he grabs Saihara’s hands and pries him off. Then he rolls off the other and lays on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

Saihara’s laugh trails off, and he turns his head to face Ouma, using his own hands as a cushion from the hardwood floor. He stares at him, wide eyes and all.

Ouma also got used to the owl eyed stare.

Saihara couldn’t explain the constant warmness in his heart that grew each instant he spent time with Ouma. Seeing the other content, seeing him happy, seeing him laugh.

That’s what he wanted..

He didn’t want to break this silence.

But--

“Ahaha..you k-kind of remind me--”

He feels something on his lips.

Ouma put his finger on Saihara’s lips for a second, to shut him up. The warmness of the other’s touch stays with him.

“Not now.” He says, gentle. Not even a trace of irritation laces his voice.

He doesn’t say it.


	2. sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emetophobia warning for the first bit
> 
> ..it's vague and only mentioned but just in case!
> 
> if there are mistakes forgive me ive been in a rush to post-

“Saihara..”

When Ouma opens the door to the bathroom, he finds Saihara laying down on the floor. The stench is horrible, and just one look in the toilet is a giveaway for what happened.

Sighing, Ouma runs over to his friend. He grabs Saihara’s shoulders and helps hoist him up, so he’s leaning against the wall upright.

Ouma grabs a towel hanging on a rack nearby and pours cold water on it. He folds it into a roll shape before instructing his friend to hold it onto his forehead.

“That worried me..it really stinks in here though.” He says.

Saihara looks at him. He just stares. It’s the usual.

His breathing is heavy, and he still looks like he’ll hurl again any moment now.

“I don’t feel good…” Saihara says.

Ouma wonders why he even had to say something so obvious. “I can see that..” He replies. Saihara saying it aloud just sounded so pitiful and sad, it made Ouma’s chest ache just a bit.

He goes over to flush down the contents from his friend’s stomach, and moves to grab Saihara’s hand.

Saihara is quick to respond, using every opportunity to touch Ouma. He clings onto Ouma’s hand and suddenly the usual sweat pooled on his forehead comes crashing down, and he’s sweating all over.

It slightly grosses Ouma out, and he almost makes a move to recoil. He stays firm, though. Remembering what he was going to do, he gets out of his crouched position and pulls Saihara up to stand. He helps steady his friend with his shoulder, and walks him to the couch in the outside room.

He lays Saihara down, patting the towel on his head to make sure it won’t fall. He walks behind the counter to fix his friend a drink.

“Ouma….” Saihara groans, even dropping his usual honorifics.

“Yeah?” Ouma answers.

“You’re really nice..”

Saihara was in a delirious state. It’s no surprise he’d say things like this. He’s sick.

“Ok. Thank you.” Ouma isn’t really sure what to say back, so he just indulges him.

“No..you’re taking care of me. I should be s-saying thank you.” Saihara stubbornly replies.

It is ..kind of nice though. Being thanked.

Ouma walks back to the couch, presenting his friend with a glass of ice cold water.

“It’s nothing. If I don’t take care of you, who will?” It’s meant to be a small jab, but neither of them could deny the truth in it.

Saihara mumbles something, but it’s hard to make out.

“What was that?” Ouma asks.

“Nothing…” Saihara says, quickly and quietly.

He decides not to push it.

Sighing, he watches Saihara as he grabs the glass of water and gulps it down a little too fast for his liking. The drool usually dribbling down Saihara’s lip constantly is dripping down even faster now, and it’s messily spread around from the bottom of his lip down to his chin.

Ouma pulls out a tissue he grabbed from a tissue box he carries around in his school bag. Just for Saihara occasions like this.

He uses the tissue to wipe Saihara’s face.

Ouma vaguely compares Saihara to a child in his head, unable to take care of himself because of how unaware he is of his basic needs. It’s a sad thought, so he stops it quickly. Sometimes, he looked at Saihara and wondered what things would be like if they had met during a different time of their lives.

Saihara is strange today because he’s sick. Still, it’s a relief not to hear about Danganronpa as much as usual.

After all, it isn’t Saihara’s fault society had him the moment his parents abandoned him.

He also stops _that_ train of thought.

Before he jinxes the Danganronpa free silence with his thoughts, he stands back up.

Or, attempts to.

Saihara has his arm firmly wrapped around Ouma’s.

Ouma’s first instinct is to grab Saihara’s hands and pry them off.

He resists the urge, though.

Nothing is said between them. Just a silence that is hard to describe. Ouma thinks its comfortable though. Saihara’s breathing had gotten less erratic, and more stable.

Saihara puts his face against Ouma’s arm as well.

“Are you cuddling my arm?”

All he gets is a content sigh in return.


	3. preferences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more rambling from yours truly,
> 
> im in pregame hell, please get me out--  
> a chapter about pets just as much as it is about stims,

A rather well kept place, resting on the corner of a busy street. Dozens of animals on display, cared for and looked after by employees.

Ouma was never one for pets. Not that his previous household would be a good place for a pet anyway.

The thought of having something fuzzy to cuddle always made him like the idea, though. Animals were simple. You feed them and treat them nice, and they’ll like you. They understand when you need space, or needed a shoulder to cry on.

Maybe it’d be nice to get a pet. Or at least feel something fuzzy and warm to hold. As usual, he’s walking with Saihara. They walk to school together, before having to split up. After school ends, they meet back at the same place that they branched in different directions. A designated meeting spot, for the most part.

They were both looking through the window, observing the animals on display. Saihara has his face way too close to the glass. Ouma places a hand on his shoulder to snap him out of his daze.

“Want to go in?” He asks.

Saihara pulls away from the display, and nods eagerly.

They walk in together, taking in everything. Ouma was always a skeptic. He could never be too sure about how certain stores treated pets, making his visits to these places rather scarce. Being so unsure of how they run things, and the history of bad pet store treatment in the past, who could blame him for being paranoid?

Still, he decided to get his hopes up. Mind as well not dwell on such things for now. Just to take a break and touch some fuzzy animals. He can do that, right?

Ouma opens the door for Saihara, and follows him into the store.

Tanks, cages, displays, dozens of animals scattered throughout. He’s walked past this store a lot, because he really had no reason to go in. Saihara was curious, though. He’d just stare through the window and Ouma knows thats pretty rude, so why not just take him in?

And Saihara just looked like a kid on Christmas.

He was doing the thing where his mouth just hung open and he was smiling wide. It probably looks kind of creepy to others, but it’s something Ouma got used to with him.

Saihara turns to Ouma and tilts his head, like he’s silently asking Ouma for his permission to look around the store on his own.

Ouma just quirks his brow a bit, before nodding. It’s not like Saihara _had_ to have his approval to do things. But the amount of times he’s corrected Saihara on his behavior is a lot more than he can count..

Saihara’s eyes widen even more than they usually are. It’s a bit weird. He smiles and runs off, going god knows where in here.

Ouma takes a look around himself. He spots a display, housing a dozen of cats. All different shapes, sizes, ages, and color. Most of the displays are shut, but a few on the left are open to all.

“Hey there, little guy…” Ouma gently says.

He reaches over to scratch one of the kittens behind its ear. A gray coat with darker stripes running along its back. He runs his hands over its back, eliciting a small purr from the animal.

He could get used to this. It was nice, and the purring was a sound that calmed him down more than he thought it would. The soft fur was a good feeling, and he instinctively rubbed it even more.

Ouma thought to himself. Could he really afford to get a cat right now? His home was the least ideal place to have it. His foster parents wouldn’t care, but he’s not sure the shouting matches won’t evolve into something worse. That won’t be a good environment for the kitten.

It was no use having it hang around the streets, either. He thinks a bit more. Saihara’s house? It’s empty all the time, he wouldn’t have to worry about people messing with it.

Then again, if Saihara was barely able to take care of himself…

Well, how would he care for something as needy as a pet?

With a long sigh, Ouma realized he had no proper place to house a cat. Still, he pet it a bit more, savoring the feeling. He wished he could adopt that cat. He couldn't imagine what it was like to be in that display all day, with nothing to do but play with the same toys over and over again.

Rather monotonous.

He looks towards the other displays. Bunnies of all sorts were also being showed off. Soft and cuddly animals were his favorite. Dogs, cats, hamsters. Anything of the sort gave him a certain comfort he wish he’d known in his life.

Ouma would never tell anyone of his secret stuffed animal collection.

Suddenly, Ouma feels something cold and heavy around his neck.

He slowly looks down, trying to see what it is.

A dulled cream color paired with big brown blotches, a snake seemed to have found itself a home around his neck.

Or, someone just sneakily wrapped it around him.

Accompanied with Saihara’s childish giggles, Ouma shrieks, and he jumps up immediately after realizing what it was.

“H-Hey, get this gross thing off of me!” Ouma yells, panicked and quick. He attempts to inch his head away from the snake only for it to follow him further, making him shake even more.

Saihara is a little late to notice his distress, and tilts his head, trying to figure out what was wrong.

After a bit, he reaches towards Ouma and carefully pulls the snake away from his friend.

Ouma finally looks like he can breathe, and he spends a few minutes rubbing his hands on his shirt.

_“Ew, ew, ew, …”_

He repeats it a few times before he feels he is clean enough.

“Saihara...maybe ask before you...wrap snakes around peoples necks.”

Saihara looks down for a bit, before realizing his mistake.

“Oh. Oh..Ouma-kun, do you want to hold this?” He asks, with that ridiculously dopey smile on his face.

Ouma appreciates the effort, at least.

“No, I don’t. But, uh...are you allowed to be carrying that around?” He wonders.

Saihara looks even more confused now. He just shrugs, and holds the reptile up like it’s the best thing he has ever seen.

Ouma just laughs. At least he’s happy.

“Hey, Saihara. Feel this.” He pulls Saihara’s free hand over to the cat display, while his friend balances a moderately sized snake in his other hand. How he does that, Ouma has no idea.

Saihara’s hand feels along the fur, before he takes it back.

“There’s no scales…”

He sounded so sad, it almost made Ouma laugh. Instead, he placates his friend.

“Fur isn’t your thing, huh. That’s okay. Your snake friend is pretty cool, I guess.”

And Saihara is practically beaming as he says that, and he decides maybe he can learn to love those nasty creatures.


	4. new year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! welcome to 2007 ! :tada: :tada:

New years was supposed to be hopeful and exhilarating.

A new start, an empty slate.

A chance to start over, in a way.

Ouma was not one for holidays. He never had anyone he truly cared for to celebrate them with. Still, the busy markets and the loud conversations of people in the rush, it’s hard not to be excited with them.

This year was different. He had someone to celebrate with.

Not the friend he ever predicted to have on New years, but…

Well, Saihara was _still_ his friend.

So he figured he’d set up a little something for him. He can’t imagine Saihara ever had someone to celebrate it with either.

Just something small. Something he could afford with limited money. Ouma’s foster parents wouldn’t even notice he’d be gone, and Saihara’s parents are never around, so Saihara’s place was the ideal location for it.

New years….what do people even get for New years?

Ouma doesn’t have a clue. He’s never truly done anything for it. It’s not like Saihara would know, either.

Get a bunch of food and sit in the same room together? He guesses, at least.

So, he does just that. He buys a bunch of food, some probably being unrelated, but he doesn't really care. Besides, he mostly feeds Saihara these days anyways, his friend deserved it.  

He arrives to Saihara’s giant house. Despite its size, it’s empty most of the time. Ouma figures it gets pretty lonely, so he visits often. He knocks on the door for a bit before Saihara slides it open.

Saihara tilts his head to the side, staring at Ouma. A common Saihara mannerism.

“Ouma-kun?” he wonders.

Ouma nods, before shoving the plastic bag of food in his friend’s face.

“Yeah, it’s me. Can we hang today? New year and all.” He tries to be casual. He doesn’t want the holiday to seem like a super big deal, because it’s not really.

He’s not sure how Saihara manages to look genuinely happy every time Ouma asks to hang out, but he does. His friend smiles wide and nods quickly, before moving away so Ouma could step inside.

So he does.

He takes in Saihara’s house, once more. It’s so clean that it’s pretty depressing, it doesn’t look very lived in. The only sign of any life in the house is Saihara’s iconic shelf, filled with every single season of Danganronpa. It even extends to two more shelves. Ouma automatically grimaces upon seeing it, but he’s not here to grill on Saihara.

There’s of course a lot more merch having to do with the show lying around, but Ouma doesn’t really count anyone liking Danganronpa as truly “living.”

He sets the food down on a kotatsu in the middle of the room. Ouma actually went out with Saihara to buy one, noticing his friend constantly shivering in his own home during the winter.

It was already pretty late, so he’d try to stay over with Saihara, just to spend one night.

He wasn’t sure what to do now.

So he passes the time the only way he knows how.

He settles in the kotatsu, and then looks over to Saihara. He pats the spot next to him, beckoning his friend over.

After Saihara settles down next to him, Ouma (slightly regrettably) asks Saihara about his favorite characters, from his favorite season of Danganronpa. (Ouma visibly cringes as he asks this.)

But Saihara looks over the moon. It’s like he clears his mind instantly, and just starts overflowing it with thoughts of Danganronpa.

Saihara rambles for a pretty long time, making use of gestures with his hands. He starts drooling as he talks after a while and Ouma has to pause his friend every now and then to wipe it off.

Soon, it starts to near midnight.

They still haven’t eaten anything. Ouma takes a good 10 minutes trying to keep Saihara from getting overly excited, and eventually he stops rambling erratically.

“Let’s eat, okay, Saihara?” He says gently.

His friend nods. He eats rather slow, for someone whose mind is constantly running. He figures it’s because Saihara rarely eats, and eating too fast could make him sick pretty quickly. He’s glad he doesn’t have to be on top of Saihara for things like that.

The hands on the clock slowly move, making midnight crawl closer and closer. Ouma briefly wonders if he should've brought alcohol. His parents keep a stash around, it wouldn’t have been hard to get a hold of some. He then smothers the thought. He doesn’t want Saihara to drink those.

On New years, people usually kiss and hug once the new year starts, right?

He wonders, which his friend would prefer.

It’s a silly thought, it’s not like Saihara really understands any of that. It wouldn’t be fair to kiss him without asking first anyways.

Ouma clears his throat. “So, um..when it’s midnight, uh, people usually hug each other. Or whatever. To celebrate their new year together.” he says.

Saihara perks up, his cowlick shooting up with him, looking a lot less droopy.

“Hug?” he asks, smiling wide.

“Yeah, that…” Ouma trails off suddenly, inspecting his friend’s face.

Ouma pulls out another tissue, and leans in. He gently grabs Saihara’s face, turning it toward himself. Slowly, he wipes more drool off.

After a bit, he still hasn't let go.

Ouma suddenly gets self conscious. He twitches and shuffles a bit before getting closer. Both of his hands are holding Saihara’s face now, but his friend still hasn’t stopped smiling.

“Hey, Saihara...relax.” he says, softly. Slowly, Saihara’s perpetual grin drops.

Ouma’s momentarily surprised to see Saihara without a smile before realizing his friend’s eyes aren't as wide as they usually are, either.

He looked rather…normal.

Ouma leans his forehead against Saihara’s, and closes his eyes.

_Saihara Shuichi...who really are you underneath all of this?_

Ouma lets go of Saihara’s face, and wraps his arms around him. He feels Saihara do the same.

They lean into each other, holding on tightly. Just for a moment, it’s as if they’re normal. Blending into the masses. In sync with everyone else. Not alone. With each other. Saihara sighs, and buries his face into Ouma’s hair.

The clock strikes 12.


	5. zzz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometihng more about ouma thoughts......  
> theres referenced abuse in this but its very small mentions...  
> i kinda rambled in this im sorry

The image was rather serene, something Ouma wouldn’t dare break.

It’s late at night, and Ouma decided to spend it at Saihara’s overwhelmingly vacant home. He was always here most of the time anyways.

Laying on Saihara’s bed, with his cheesy unsurprising Danganronpa sheets. The entire room was decorated with merch, it was kind of terrifying to look at. It made Ouma’s stomach twist upon first looking at it.

But with the lights off, the obvious obsession of his friend’s was barely noticable. The image that he didn’t want to bring...the thing he didn’t want to end..

As he lay on the soft mattress, Saihara is laying across Ouma’s stomach, snoring lightly and fast asleep. 

With his eyes closed, Saihara looked like a completely different person. Without his wide eyes peering into him, into everything. He looked...calm. A calm Saihara was a rare one, he’d only mostly see it on rare occasions or when he was asleep. That was the image Ouma refused to break.

Ouma runs his hands through his companion’s hair. Earlier, he had forced Saihara into the shower, involving lots of pushing and insistence. It was tiring, and Ouma just wanted to rest. After Saihara had gotten dressed in his sleepwear, he had flopped on top of Ouma. It only took a few minutes until Saihara had passed out.

With that shower, Saihara’s hair was less greasy and gross than it usually was. Instead, it was fluffy and soft, and it felt good to run his hands through. Humming lightly, Ouma lets himself smile just a bit. 

“I wish I could see you like this, more…” he whispers, as if Saihara could hear him.

Sighing, he leans back into his fluffy pillow. He grabs Saihara’s head and guides it closer to his chest, so he can continue running his hands through his friend’s hair.

Saihara makes a pleased sound, and shifts until he’s comfortable in his sleep again.

Ouma chuckles quietly. He liked to be with Saihara like this. No reminders of how awful the world is, no garbage reality show constantly being talked about, no trivialization of murder.

Just Ouma and Saihara. 

Ouma knows he’s never really talked about liking Saihara. In the way that was reserved for lovers..not really. He didn’t think Saihara truly understood it, the concept of Love. Any large capacity of human emotion.. it wasn’t paid attention to, not by his friend.

It was almost as if Saihara didn’t think about his emotions, or how he felt, or anything about himself.

Ouma didn’t want to rope his friend in all the complicated things he felt everyday, feelings he was too aware of. There were things about Saihara he didn’t even know he could ever..love.

Love is a strong word..he didn’t want to use it lightly. 

Saihara was a special case.

An odd case...his Danganronpa loving friend..it was almost strange, recalling how they met. How they even became friends. Because Ouma knew he’d never be friends with anyone else who liked it.

He learned over time.

The things about Saihara. About his parents...about his infamous housesitter.

Ouma pulls Saihara even closer to him. He buries his face in his friend’s soft hair. Wrapped his arms around Saihara’s chest.

“I’ll get you out of this..I swear I will.” Ouma quietly said.

Saihara didn’t deserve it...to squash his own feelings in favor of a superficial piece of media like Danganronpa. He was going to end it all...end Saihara’s suffering (Saihara, unaware of it) and end the pain of countless other people.

A plan had come to his head...a long time ago. He had deemed it a failure back then, but….

He was prepared to take risks now.

A fiery kind of resolve sets in Ouma’s stomach. Saihara’s doesn’t know a thing, he’s very unaware of other people, only Danganronpa. He didn’t know how to really function, how to make friends, how to not be so overbearing in front of strangers. Saihara, outcasted even when he had joined the masses in their worthless obsession. Even when he was like them all, he wasn’t.

Left behind to rot in his loneliness...something Ouma knew all too well.

Ouma presses a gentle kiss to Saihara’s forehead. 

He leans back again, staring into the ceiling. It is a bit arrogant to believe he can save so many people, but he doesn’t care. Along with Saihara, he’ll break the spell that piece of media had on the entire world. He’ll save it. Only he can do it. Only he’ll be able to go with this plan, put in the risk. Only Ouma Kokichi would dare test the waters of a serious gamble.

Because he was the only person in the world who wasn’t brainwashed and had the guts to try something drastic to make it stop.

The poor abused child, whose only purpose in life was to be beaten and pushed around.

Whose only purpose was to be hateful and ungrateful to everything the world had to offer, to rebel against a corrupt society and feel like everyone’s enemy.

He’ll show them.

He’ll save everyone. He’ll give them world peace. No murder, no violence, no suicide.

Saihara yawns, and then babbles against Ouma’s chest. 

Ouma is snapped out of his thoughts, blushing slightly at how..cute his friend had sounded. He then takes a minute to realize that Saihara had started drooling all over his shirt.

“Ugh….seriously? You’re so gross...” Ouma says, quietly.

Ouma uses his blanket to wipe the drool off, and tries to get Saihara to shut his mouth again. He won’t budge, and Ouma sighs.

“Whatever….” he mumbles. He gives up trying to prevent it. But he notices the smile that’s on his friend’s face now and feels himself smile too. 

Fondly, he pets Saihara’s head until he feels his own eyelids refusing to stay open. He eventually falls into the comfort of his pillow, and allows Saihara’s light snoring to lull him to sleep.


	6. con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been awhilr but ahhh...on fluff kagebon kick..! convention stuff..ahh. i feel ouma inthis chapter..  
> im sorry ive been avdvdvdd staggering lately jsut. All over the place bt hopefulyl this is a good chapter..to add totbis kagebon fluff train ..! hopeyou like...

Saihara’s latest idea of a fun time was..Dangan Ronpa related, as usual.

The day was nice. The wind wasn’t too harsh, the sun just right. It seemed like a good day to just go out and do something, away from crowds and people. 

But fate decided, well.

They were going to do the exact opposite. 

Ouma ended up being dragged to a...convention.

A Danganronpa one.

Now, okay, he can tolerate Saihara’s Danganronpa ramblings. 

But this was...over the top. Being involved in Danganronpa related things like this had a limit, and he definitely didn’t like seeing this much of it shoved into his face all day.

Saihara was excited, though...and Ouma didn’t want to dampen his spirits? God, he was getting soft. Saihara is harmless, but there was only so much he could handle. 

He was trying his hardest not to lose it though. He can take a day for Saihara. It’s not like he could really do anything about an interest that’s been there for so long. So he lets his friend pull him all around. 

Cosplayers were everywhere, and Saihara was stopping for pictures with every single Kyouko Kirigiri cosplayer there was. 

And by every single one…

It was every. Single. One.

It was nice to get a break on his legs every now and then, but god did he hate being just in the presence of Danganronpa fans that were strangers.

They kept looking in his direction as if he wanted a picture too. He was hoping his perpetual irritated face would ward people off, but it looks like it’s not really working.

“O-Oh! There’s another one! Quick, quick!” Saihara yells, causing a few startled heads to turn.

Luckily, Ouma is used to this behavior.

Saihara grabs his hand, pulling him in the direction of another Kirigiri.

The girl seems startled when Saihara loudly and quickly introduces himself with wild gestures and a fast handshake.

Okay, Ouma had to admit, it was hilarious seeing people caught off guard from Saihara’s usual antics.

Though he quickly realizes they’re actually nervous tics. Speaking loudly, sweating a lot, and moving erratically. All things Saihara did when he was nervous, speaking to people he doesn’t know. 

His tics were different with certain people. Depending on their age, usually. Teenagers usually got the loud stuff, the unpredictable things he was used to.

But adults….

Saihara was..quiet. Meek, even. His voice goes into a mumbling and rambling mess, making him almost incoherent if you’re not listening carefully. He scrunches up, like trying to turn in on himself. It was very different from the looseness of being around people his own age.

It was interesting, to say the least. Ouma had a lot of guesses, but he wasn’t about to ask and confirm them.

Enough of Ouma’s analysis of Saihara’s behavior.

His friend gets his picture, and again, the girl looks in his direction.

He turns his head so he’s facing away from her, and makes a beckoning gesture with his hands.

“Come on, Saihara.”

His friend reluctantly relents and comes back over. He stares at his phone with this big dopey smile on his face, and Ouma actually cracks a smile at that.

He quickly forces his grin down when Saihara faces his direction. 

“I should’ve bought a cosplay...or made something…” Saihara says, eyes trained downwards. 

“It’s fine. I mean, I’m not sure you feel about it, but I wouldn’t want to be in a skirt all day.”

“Ahh...but that’s what she wears! Gotta be right…”

Ouma sighs. 

“You’re fine…” He trails off, seeing Saihara getting distracted again.

He swears it’s like looking after an excited dog. 

Saihara shuffles up to the artist’s alley it looks like, and this is where it starts to get claustrophobic. People everywhere, buying every little thing they can get their hands on.

Ouma shudders, feeling like he can’t trust any artist here. 

Saihara is beaming, though. He looks like he’s taking in all of the “amazing” artwork, but also frantically searching for anything Kirigiri related.

Ouma decides to save his friend the trouble of just standing there staring and taps his shoulder, pointing him in the direction of a booth that had quite a bit of her.

Saihara quite literally squeaks, and pulls Ouma over...again.

The guy pulls out a ridiculous amount of cash and suddenly Ouma wants to gag.

He forgets how much his friend blows money on things, and just wishes he’d just go out and get food or something...anything more useful than this..

Saihara’s got like eight different prints and a mountain of buttons and charms, he looks like an overly enthusiastic fan (which he..basically is) with tons of merch hanging off of him.

But well...he’s happy about it.

Meanwhile, the cluttered mess of people hanging around here is starting to get to Ouma.

He hates that he’s feeling this way, like he can’t handle just a few crowds of people. It makes him feel pathetic that he feels so aware of everything, every voice pounds in his ears like it’s so much louder-

He feels his heart begin to beat at an irregular pace, and he knows he needs to get out.

Before he can even register what he’s doing, he’s suddenly outside and he finally feels like he can breathe again.

There’s just...one problem.

He left Saihara in there.

Alone.

But Ouma’s not sure he can go back in. He’s already trying to compose himself, all of the panic and bad feelings just barely receding. He had sensed he was close to having an anxiety attack in public, and really didn’t want to have to do that in front of people like that.

He takes a deep breath, forcing his body to calm down.

“Ugh….I can’t take it, being in there...too much people, too much clutter, too many to instantly dislike..” He rambles, trying to get the urge to yell out of his system.

He’s surprised to hear footsteps in the grass behind him.

He whips around quickly, but relaxes when it’s just Saihara....

But...wait, he followed him outside?

Saihara looks just as surprised as Ouma, actually. His eyes are wider than usual and he looks like he wants to say something but it’s not quite coming out.

“...Worried about me? Listen, I’m fine. I’ll be okay. Go back there, have fun and stuff. Don’t let me stop you...I don’t want to go back in, though.” Ouma looks away, he doesn’t really want to see a shred of disappointment on the other’s face.

He’s the one who wanted Ouma to go in the first place, and now Ouma just fucked up the whole thing because if his stupid feelings.

Saihara doesn’t seem to move, though…

He suddenly drops everything he’s carrying, and sits down on the grass next to Ouma.

Ouma’s curious...what is he doing? Why isn’t he just going back in, getting all the merch he wants? It’s all right there..

“I-I...w-want to stay with you.” Saihara says, and it’s as simple as that.

So Ouma sits down on the grass too. 

He’s wondering about Saihara’s sudden change of heart...sudden, unexpected decision.

It surprises him. 

But Saihara looks content.

He’s tapping his fingers across his legs, and bobbing his head left and right, like moving with a rhythm. He’s faintly humming, and it looks like he’s just happy to be with Ouma.

It gives him..a weird feeling.

Even when Saihara can just go back into that building...anytime..when it’s so close..

He’s sitting here doing nothing with Ouma.

Ouma wants to grab hold of the hand sitting beside him, but he doesn’t go through with it..

But the warmness doesn’t leave his chest, even as the sun slowly starts to set and he suggests to Saihara that they should probably leave.

Saihara happily nods, but not without grabbing the mountain of merchandise he bought...

And they walk home together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have any requests for pregame fluff...please send me them! ill happily write it...!


	7. cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( slips in )  
> tried my hand at kagehara pov...! i hope its okay.. i think im grasping it okay! please enjoy! (not beta'd + uploaded on mobile )

He looks through tinted glass.

Where the glass is painted a deep, rosy red.

Where everything seems..okay.

The boy wanders around in his mind all day. Thinking about characters interacting in many different ways. They could fall in love, like normal people are. They could get into arguments and misunderstandings, like normal people do. They could experience something awful and irreversible, like normal people do. They could die, just like normal people do.

Because through fiction, he can experience everything that other people can.

He doesn’t know what it’s like, really…

How to talk to people, how to make friends, how to stop feeling so invisible….

When he met Kirigiri Kyouko, he felt like he could finally be himself.

But the reality of everything...could easily slip through the cracks. The glass box...it was almost perfect.

Almost..

Ouma is holding his hand.

Saihara’s hand.

He finds that he really likes the warmth from Ouma. His best friend. Ouma is looking the other direction, eyes narrowed. Saihara could see just a faint bit of red on the other’s cheek.

His own face heats up as well...until he sees a cafe nearby. Not just any, of course.. a Danganronpa cafe!

He’s always wanted to go to one! He sees Kirigiri, his detective, on one of the display screens outside of it. It’s packed, as per usual, and the crowd definitely looks overwhelming.

But he ignores his rapid beating hard and heavy feelings in favor of checking it out! It’s a new one, after all. He’s glad they still show his favorite detective in spite of the cafe being based on a completely different season.

In his excitement he suddenly tugs on Ouma’s wrist, barely realizing he started dragging his companion with him.

“Saihara! Slow down…”

He hears Ouma sorta yell-mumble, and only just registers it in time to slow down the pace. _Sorry, Ouma-kun.._

“What’s got you in a hurry?”

Saihara’s disappointment when Ouma stops holding his hand is evident, but the other is looking intently in his direction. Saihara assumes he wants an answer.

“This cafe...it was recently released! For...for Season 50. I’ve never been able to go! I never go this way, so I never really had the time to go in! But it looks great! Colorful! And they always have Kirigiri-san in the front of these…”

Saihara feels his face heat up…

Ouma raises a brow. Saihara doesn’t know what it means, but he’s already on a train of thought.

“Can we go in? Please? M-My treat! I want to see it!!” Saihara frantically asks.

Ouma regards him for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Fine..as long as you’re treating. I was getting hungry anyways.”

Saihara beams, happy to hear it! He’s sure Ouma will enjoy the food here.. he doesn’t like sweet things, Saihara recalls. But he knows that’s not all they sell during Danganronpa cafes! He’ll be fine!

...He doesn’t want Ouma to be upset with him.

“Yes..!”

Saihara extends his hand again, waiting for Ouma to take it. He has to remember to indicate when he’s about to touch his friend..sometimes he forgets, but he’s trying..

Ouma seems to appreciate it, taking a hold of Saihara’s hand again.

Thankfully they’re here early, so the line isn’t too bad. They wait awhile before there's an open table available, and turns out it’s a booth in a far corner. Saihara is glad about that. He hates the wooden chairs…

He knows Ouma values comfort! He’ll be happy too…

When they’re seated, a beautiful waitress approaches their table, handed them both a menu. Saihara blushes..how is he supposed to talk to her without choking up..?

He quickly forgets about it as he scans the menu. He needs to find his favorite character from this season! Whatever food it is he doesn’t care to read..he just loves to see his face.

He looks up to see Ouma looking down at the menu, grimacing. Saihara looks down again at his favorite..then back up at Ouma again.

“My favorite character from this season is on here! And the food looks really good too! His name is Jun-kun...he’s the one at the bottom, with the black hair. He’s the Super High School Level Idol! He’s really outspoken..serious and smart. Despite being weighed down with all the troubles of being an idol..and that whole industry as a whole… people think idols are airheads who don’t know anything..but without him one of the murders wouldn’t have been solved. He’s amazing…”

He feels his cheeks heat up again. He can’t help it… he’s a good character.

Ouma is looking directly at Saihara, attentive and listening.

He feels something in his heart but ignores it in favor of the waitress coming back.

He feels hotter, can feel the sweat dripping from his forehead. He can do this. She’s just a pretty lady.

Nothing to worry about.

“Are you ready to order?” She asks.

“Uh..yeah. Just give me the uh.. Hosokawa Ken Spaghetti Bolognese.” Ouma says, face twisting into an unimpressed grimace. He tries to fix it before coming off as rude, turning it into an unsure smile.

Despite how he sounded, he was still clear and articulate in saying it. Ouma is always so clear… talked confident.. like his presence demanded attention.

Saihara swallows..

The lady scribbles it down, then turning to Saihara. She looks straight into his eyes and he can’t help but quickly direct his line of sight to the menu in front of him.

Feeling her gaze on him, he forces his words out, heating up by the minute.

“C-Can I-”

His voice sounds too quiet to him- He has to try again.

“Can I-I have the..”

He scans the menu again, frantically looking for _anything_ to say.

“The M-Mamiko Mochizuki N-Neapolitan cake…”

He mumbles again towards the end, but the waitress nods and scribbles it down.

She asks for drinks, and after another torturous sentence he has to push out, he finally relaxes.

He internally breathes a sigh of relief.

Ouma is looking in his direction..but he’s not sure what the look means…

“You sure you can eat that? Looks kinda.. like a lot.”

“Yeah..! I can.. and..it looks soft..like Mochizuki-san.”

“Well.. if you can’t, I’ll take it. Okay? Don’t force yourself..”

Ouma’s usual gentle yet firm tone is soothing to his ears. Saihara puts his face in his hands, growing blush spreading throughout his face.

After a bit of small talk, mostly Saihara giving a general description of every character in the season, their food comes.

The waitress gently sets the food down, and bows. “Enjoy your meal.” And she’s off.

Ouma, despite his unsatisfied expressions earlier, digs in pretty quickly. He can tell his best friend had been really hungry, and he knows Ouma has a hard time passing up free food..

Meanwhile..Saihara looks down at the large slice, and even when Mochizuki-san’s comforting smile on the cake comes into view..he’s not sure he can finish. But he has to finish..everyone finishes their food. It’s rude not to, after all… and everyone around him is _expecting_ him to eat it.

Slowly, he tries to down the food. Despite loving the taste, his anxiousness seems to overtake him. He starts to taste paper instead…

When Ouma finishes looking satisfied, Saihara is a third of the way through…

He starts eating faster because he has to finish-

“Saihara.”

He stops.

“...You don’t look good. I’m not sure you can finish that.”

“Ah…”

Ouma places his hand on Saihara’s, giving his friend a short smile before taking the plate away.

Saihara wills himself to calm down as Ouma downs the rest of it.

Ouma’s always been so good at just being able to tell what’s wrong..

After Saihara pays for their food, they both push through the crowded place to get out and get fresh air. Saihara hears Ouma sigh loudly and watches him stretch himself out.

“Good to be standing again..”

Saihara smiles wide. He’s happy to see Ouma looking so refreshed and actually..content?

He has to wonder..

“W-Was that okay?” He says, feeling his body slowly bobbing up and down waiting for an answer.

“..It was pretty good.” Ouma says, eyes looking very interested in the street next to them.

He puts his hands in his pants pockets, looking at Saihara this time.

“Thanks for treating me. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to do it again. As long as I’m with you.”

It sounds so sincere, but the words get to Saihara and he feels himself heat up once again.

Ouma’s eyes widen, realizing how he sounds, but he doesn’t amend it.

Saihara smiles even wider, unable to contain his excitement. He really really likes being with Ouma, and he loves to see him happy.

“N-Now..I have to finish telling you about the characters..!”

He hears Ouma sigh, but he doesn’t look all that bothered, from what Saihara can tell.

As they walk together, Saihara tells him about Jun and his role in the killing game...


	8. park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so actually i just decided to add this fic here since the plan was to write even more but im kinda done w v3 so i wont be writing anymore actually
> 
> anyways if youve already read just ignore this altogether tbh

They fall into a rhythm as they walk.

Saihara has a slight skip to his step, bouncing as he walks. While Ouma keeps his feet to the ground, dragging his feet across the concrete. They walk home from school together as usual.

Saihara’s rambling, about - something. Probably Danganronpa related. He pauses, before gesturing to a large poster plastered all over the windows of an insignificant nameless clothing shop. On said poster, a bunch of Danganronpa characters he didn’t know were on it. They were gesturing to multiple rides and attractions. Like a carnival of sorts?

“It’s like an amusement park! Except it’s Danganronpa themed!” Saihara exclaims, waving his hands around wildly as he gets every word out. Oh...so that’s what it was.

“Let me guess...you want to go with me.” Ouma says. Saihara nods quickly, the answer was quite obvious.

Ouma figures he’s got nothing to do for the rest of the day...so he might as well. Sure it would be a torture to imagine what they’d put in a Danganronpa themed amusement park, but he’s gotten good at ignoring the more ridiculous stuff to come out of Danganronpa’s popularity. Like...a whole entire amusement park.

“I’ve always w-wanted to go...but ah, I never really had anyone to go with.” Saihara clarifies. Ouma can understand why, people don’t usually go to attractions like this without a friend or a group of people. It’d be nice to unwind...ignoring all the Danganronpa related stuff shoved in his face that is.

“Okay, sure. Do you need me to get my own ticket?” He asks. He knows what Saihara is going to say, but it doesn’t stop him from offering anyways.

“No, no! It’s fine! I c-can pay!” He quickly says before Ouma even has a chance to pull out his wallet. Well...if Saihara has money to spend...he’ll spend it. The sun hasn’t begun to set yet, so they pretty much had most of the day to do what they wanted. Saihara turns to Ouma, his hand slowly reaching out. “C-Can we…?” He asks, eyes glued to the ground, and a flushed face.

Ouma chuckles just a bit before holding Saihara’s hand.

“Alright.” He tries to give his best half smile. He hasn’t done it in a while, so he’s hoping it doesn’t look like a half hearted grimace.

Saihara makes this squeak like sound, before falling back into step with Ouma. This time, holding his hand.

They walk for a bit before noticing a nearby pier. It’s pretty obviously their destination, given the amount of rides that are visible just from the entrance alone. The place is packed, thousands of people gathering around it and even inside. It was loud, like all you could hear were several off conversations going off at once. Ouma didn’t really favor the atmosphere much, but he did like rides. So he hoped the stuff here was at least decent to allow himself to just have fun.

“Um..okay! I pay! J-Just...here..” Saihara mumbles to himself as he figures out what to do in this situation. He’s as much of a people person as Ouma- the anxiety they both have just really doesn’t help.

Ouma is good at hiding that anxiety, though. He gently takes Saihara’s wallet from his hands, and walks up to the kiosk. He calmly asks for two tickets, and the lady standing there rummages through a desk before handing them over. Ouma offers the half smile again and grabs Saihara’s hand, dragging him away from the large crowd.

Saihara’s breathing is labored, but he forces himself to calm down. It’s just a  _crowd_.

“It’s okay. I understand. We’re finally in, though…” Ouma placates. He then turns to Saihara. “What do you wanna do?”

Saihara clears his throat before looking around, finally taking note of his surroundings. The huge rollercoaster towards the back is really tempting to Ouma, but…

Now that Ouma really had a look, he takes in how much of a horror attraction the place looks. At least, in his eyes. There was a lot of…. _pink_. Like, the color of the blood on the show. It was all a little bit...too much. Their presentation was always unnecessarily ostentatious. Colorful characters everywhere, all painted in that iconic Danganronpa style.

It looked hideous.

Saihara jumps, pointing in the direction of a carnival like attraction. It was similar to a shooting range. Then Ouma sees the cause of excitement.

“T-That Kirigiri plush...we have to get it! We have to! I-I’ve never seen that one before!!” Saihara yells, his arms going all different directions. The charms on his phone can be heard loud and clear, jangling like keys.

Ouma has to resist the urge to smile. Sometimes Saihara’s excitement almost catches up to him, making him want to bounce around too. Still, he won’t rest until the unidentified Kirigiri plush is his. So he’ll help Saihara win. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go get it.” He says in reply.

Saihara grins, and runs over to the stand. He pays the vendor for five tries, and carefully takes hold of the gun. As expected, he finds it hard to keep himself steady, and he starts to shake - like he’s shivering. He feels like there are tons of eyes watching him, and he hesitates. He attempts to shoot at the plush about three times. He misses all three.

Ouma can sense his distress, and quietly walks over. “How about I try?” He offers, giving Saihara a small half smile.

Saihara nods, quickly handing the rifle over. Ouma gets into position, finding an angle suitable to hit the target. He takes a deep breath, before pulling the trigger. The plushie goes down, a sign that he was able to hit it. The man running the stand whistles, as if impressed. “Damn, all it took was one try, huh? Here’s your plush.” The man says, handing the Kirigiri over.

“Ouma-kun!! That’s amazing!” Saihara shouts, with an elated voice. Ouma can’t help but blush...Saihara sounds so happy. The genuine joy in his voice really gets to him. He hands Saihara the plush, before trying to wave off the blush on his face with his now free hands.

“Wasn’t much, really…” He mumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

Saihara giggles. “Thank y-you!” He hugs the plush close to his face, where he wears a big smile.

Ouma laughs, before turning around to face the thing he’s been wanting to do since they got there.

“Hey, Saihara...how are you with rollercoasters?” He asks, curious.

Saihara is snapped out of his plush cuddling state, and tilts his head to think. “Um...I think I’m...alright!” He quips, but he still seems pretty unsure. Ouma spots the hesitation, but he can’t help it. It’s been too long since he’s been on a proper coaster. Most of the instances are attached to bad memories, anyways…

“You don’t have to go. But I wanted to try it, at least once. They’re my favorite thing about parks like this.” He says, feeling an involuntary mischievous smile form on his face.

Saihara blushes, not used to such a rare expression on Ouma’s face. Despite his worry, it’s hard to resist just going with it. “I-I’ll go! I will be fine!” He says, voice rising a decibel or two.

Ouma’s skeptical, but he’s too distracted to pay too much attention. He runs over, actually kind of excited. It’s been so long...he wanted to feel the wind rush through his hair again..

Saihara pays, and they both sit in the same car. Next to each other. Saihara is happy about the proximity, but he knows this is something he’s going to regret….

The ride is a lot. The metal coaster starts with a long trek upwards, and then a sudden drop down that’s meant to hype the passengers up. It then follows a track that constantly goes up and down, before it blasts through the upside down segment. Towards the end it does a wavy motion along the track, before finally coming to an end. Despite how fast it went by, Saihara still felt the whole ride was an eternity.

But, throughout the ride, Ouma’s rare and joyful laugh seemed to make everything just a tiny bit more bearable.

...Still, Saihara shoots out of the chair as fast as possible, heads for the nearest trash can - and vomits.

After a while he feels a hand patting his back, helping him out. Ouma is there with him, startled by the immediate reaction.

“Saihara...I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention to how you were feeling about it..”

Saihara finishes, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve. “N-No! It’s fine...that was my bad! I -" Saihara is cut off by the feeling of a napkin around his mouth. Ouma had taken one out of his school bag, rubbing off anything Saihara might have left there. “Listen..you don’t need to do things you’re not comfortable with for me. Especially if you get motion sick…” He says, guilt evident in his face.

Saihara’s eyes widen, not really understanding. “B-But..you came with me today, even though you don’t really like Danganronpa...isn’t t-that the same?” He asks, genuinely lost.

Ouma looks caught off guard, before shaking his head. “Well...that’s different. I came because it’s with you. I mean -  it’s easier to ignore.. all of this, when I’m with you? I guess...well maybe it’s not that different…” Ouma sighs, disliking the fact he didn’t really have a concrete reason to differentiate what he’s doing to what Saihara did.

“Well..it’s different with your physical well being..” He mumbles, satisfied with that answer.

Saihara takes a minute, but kind of understands what he means. He smiles, though. “But I did get to hear you laugh, s-so it was worth it!” He exclaims, elation filling his voice again.

Ouma splutters, looking anywhere but into Saihara’s eyes. “Did I? ..I didn’t even notice.” He says, sighing again.

Saihara laughs. “It was cute!”

“Ugh...stop.” Ouma shoots back, but he holds his hand out.

Saihara takes it and pulls Ouma along, bounce in his step again.


End file.
